


Scout

by kristsune



Series: Flowers and Tattoos [43]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, and ends up really enjoying working with the bike, anomaly just wanted to do something nice, him and ruckus really get a long, they really just want to make stick happy, to give him something he always wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 01:38:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14631375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: Anomaly finds an old bike, and knows exactly what he can do with it.





	Scout

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starofwinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/gifts).



> This is just something [Jesse](http://thebisexualmandalorian.tumblr.com/) and I had a conversation about, and I needed to write. I love all our children.  
> Anomaly, Killer, Loudmouth and Nova belong to Jesse <3

Anomaly was walking through the junkyard, looking for some fix-it pieces with Ruckus when he happened across it. It was a 1929 Indian 101 Scout. It was the  _ exact _ model Stick had always wanted. It wasn’t in great shape, but there was almost no rust and the body was still sound. It would definitely need quite a bit of work, but otherwise it was  _ perfect _ . 

Anomaly pulled out his phone to message Ruckus.

 

**Hey ruck you think chief and the others would mind if i used your garage**

**No? Do i want to know why**

**Just get back here i need your lanky arms**

 

Turned out Ruckus was delighted about the prospect of a motorcycle restoration happening in their garage. Which was great, because Anomaly knew he was probably going to need some help. 

They ended up spending a lot of time together. Anytime Anomaly found he couldn’t sleep, which was more often than not, he would head over to their garage and tinker with the bike. It felt  _ good _ to work with his hands, to keep them busy and his mind blank. Whether it was because he had woken up from a nightmare, or couldn’t sleep in the first place; he had somewhere to go to, to put that restless energy towards something.

Ruckus never judged Anomaly, no matter what time, (or whatever state he was in) he wandered into the garage. And Anomaly never judged Ruckus for being awake at the same time; unable to sleep for his own reasons. Sometimes Nova would show up, always with a friendly nod to Anomaly, and gently urge Ruckus to eat or to bed. If he brought food with him, he would always share with Anomaly. It touched him in a way he hadn’t expected, these little moments in the middle of the night. 

Sometimes Anomaly would wake up, head pillowed on his arm, leaning against the workbench with a blanket tucked in around him, and knew it was thanks to Ruckus. He appreciated not only Ruckus’ electronic and mechanical expertise, but also their friendship, and how it was strengthened through this. 

Everyone was sworn to secrecy, all wanting to make sure Stick got the best surprise. When they were starting to get close, Loudmouth showed interest in painting everything that would need a new coat. He learned how to use a spray gun, and Rabble helped him with sanding down the layers that needed it. Loudmouth and Rabble talked with Poke to get an idea of what he would like best, and Loudmouth instantly went out to buy detailing brushes and the appropriate colors, to make sure he did it justice. Anomaly had no doubt that he would. 

Eventually the bike was finished. Killer and Poke were leading a blindfolded Stick into the small back yard where they set up the celebration. 

The first thing Stick saw when he opened his eyes was Anomaly standing just behind a beautifully restored Scout. Beautiful dark purple paint, almost black, with a rainbow ribbon of color twining around the fenders, gas tank, and frame. Mischief, Rabble, Loudmouth, Ruckus, and Nova were fanned out to the sides. 

Stick looked at all of them, “What- what is this?”

Anomaly smiled, “It’s for you.” 

“That beautiful piece of machinery is for  _ me _ ?” Stick’s eyebrows were practically in his hairline. 

“Anomaly found it and fixed it up for you!” Rabble piped in, and immediately blushed.

Anomaly smiled and deflected, “It was a joint effort.” 

Stick was gripping onto Poke’s arm (like it was the only thing keeping him standing), who nudged him towards the bike. He took the few steps towards the bike, crouching down to run his hands over it. His touch was gentle and almost reverent. When he finished moving from the front to the back, looking over every piece, he looked up at Anomaly with tears in his eyes.

“She’s  _ magnificent _ . I can’t believe you did this for me.” Stick reached his hand up to take Anomaly’s. The tears started to fall when he pulled him into a hug. It was obvious Stick was completely overwhelmed, and just so  _ happy _ . 

After a few moments of hugging Anomaly, Stick waved his hands, inviting everyone in, but unable to form the words to do so. He was finally able to pull himself together enough to thank them all, over and over again. He gave them each a kiss as they all seperated and started to talk. No one said anything as Stick as he wiped the tears from his face. 

They all made small talk about the bike; Stick asking questions, the others answering, telling him what they had contributed.

“What are you going to name her?” Loudmouth asked. It was an innocent enough question, considering Stick had named most of his other electronics, like his laptop (Patrick) and his tattoo gun (Vlad). 

A sad look briefly passed over Stick’s face as he trailed his fingers against the gas tank, “Anahira”.

Poke reached over to take a hold of his other hand, and answered for Stick, knowing he would have a hard time speaking it out loud, “Named for his mother.” 

After a few moments, Ruckus broke the silence with a smirk, intending to lighten the mood, “Well, are you going to start her up, or are you going to leave us in suspense all evening?” 

A bright smile broke out on Stick’s face as he moved to straddled the bike. He kick started Anahira, and closed his eyes in pleasure as she purred to life. Poke handed him a helmet, obviously painted by him and Killer. Which was to say, the painting was decently done, but it was more of a statement piece, rather than anything else. Stick obviously loved it as he strapped it on. 

He gave Poke a kiss, and a smile for the rest of them, mouthing another thank you, before riding out for the first time on his dream bike. Poke and Killer settled against either side of Anomaly, and wrapped an arm around him as they watched Stick go, all so glad they could give something so important to one they loved so much. 

**Author's Note:**

> [This](http://www.americanmotorcyclist.com/Portals/3/EasyDNNnews/7636/7636Mayclassic_600_29scout.jpg) is a 1929 Indian Scout.  
>  I pictured the rainbow ribbon that Loudmouth painted looking like [this](http://esunatrampa.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/Orphans.jpg)  
> Anahira means angel in Maori.


End file.
